One Little Thing
by Rhya Storm
Summary: Just one little thing is all it takes shoot everything to hell and turn the world on its ear. Why Peter Pettigrew didn't betray his friends on Halloween night, 1981.


A/N: I know I haven't been updating recently, but my grandfather just died, and life's been a little hectic at the moment. So here's a small peace offering until I get the next chapter of 'Call of the Moon' up, 'kay? Oh, and does anyone else have problems putting up the long 'ruler' thing? It won't put it in for me.

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One little thing. One tiny little thing was all it took to turn the world on its axis. One miniscule, barely significant thing that led to a marginally _more_ significant thing, until it all snowballed into a vast and terrible descent that turned everything they took for granted on its head. Just one little thing.

And it never happened.

On January twelfth, 1980, Peter Pettigrew did not look down at his feet on the corner of Main Street in Hogsmeade and spy two Sickles gleaming half-buried in the snow by the curb.

And so, Peter Pettigrew did not stoop to pick these up and then use them to buy several bottles of Firewhiskey.

Because of this, those bottles of Firewhiskey were never drunk by James, Sirius, and Peter later that night in James' flat.

So Sirius never made a certain remark to Peter that he almost certainly would never have done sober.

And Peter, having never heard this remark, because this never happened, didn't remember it in the morning, and not realize that Sirius had no idea he'd ever said anything.

So Peter never felt left out in the sudden bustle and frenzy that consumed his friends in preparation for Lily and James' marriage.

On the wedding night, Peter did not decline Remus and Sirius' invitation to hang out at the Three Broomsticks and drink themselves into oblivion in celebration of their friend's marital bliss.

So, Peter did not go walking in the early hours of the morning, lonesome and miserable for reasons he didn't quite understand, and happen to find a sympathetic ear in a darkened alley – an ear which occasionally spoke with well-placed comments meant to make Peter feel even more abandoned by his friends, and to build resentment.

Having never done this, because all this never happened, Peter didn't begin to withdraw into himself, becoming secluded and antisocial, finding excuses not to visit with his friends time and time again, and all the while feeling that, if they were true friends, they would _notice _and just try a _little_ harder.

And so, because Peter never felt this, he never began to rely more and more upon the support and sympathetic listening of his new friends – the ones he never met, because this never happened – and begin to rethink, bit by bit, his entire life.

Peter never felt like his friends were abandoning and betraying him.

When he was made Secret Keeper, he never thought that they were indicating that he was so insignificant and worthless as to be beneath anyone's notice.

So, on October first, 1981, Peter was not suddenly confronted by Voldemort's minions and made an offer, backed by some of his new friends. He didn't give it a moment's doubt or hesitation, and he didn't stammer and stutter and go home with a thousand doubts and worries roiling inside his mind.

On October fifteenth, 1981, Peter did not go to meet his new friends and face repetition of the offer, put even more persuasively. He did not hesitate, or ask to be given some time to think about it. He did not cry in the dark that night, miserable and frightened and alone, because he didn't want to believe that his best friends had changed so much since Hogwarts, that they had become what they had once protected him from, that they had forgotten him, that they didn't care.

Because all this had never happened, Peter did not walk around with a miserable pit in his stomach, making every waking moment agony, as he fell deeper and deeper into his fright and despair, because no one could help him. Because no one _wanted_ to help him.

And Peter never walked past the window of the Three Broomsticks, to see Remus, Sirius, and James playfully shoving each other on their swiveling barstools, with several shopping bags of Halloween gifts and treats lying at their feet. Peter did not suffer the descent of the certain, irrevocable knowledge that his old friends had truly forgotten him.

And, on October the thirty-first, Halloween night, Peter did not go to celebrate with his new friends. He did not sit there as the offer was repeated once more. And he did not accept.

On Halloween night, Godric's Hollow was not blasted to pieces. James and Lily Potter did not die protecting their only son from the wrath of Voldemort.

The following morning, Sirius was not arrested for the murder of Peter Pettigrew, thirteen Muggles, and the betrayal of James and Lily Potter. He was not sent to Azkaban without so much as a trial.

Harry Potter did not grow up in Number Four Privet Drive.

Peter did not spend the next twelve years in hiding as a rat in the Weasley household.

Remus did not age fifty years in ten because his world had been shattered.

And, thirteen years later, Voldemort did not rise again.

All this never happened.

One little thing. Just one tiny, insignificant little thing can somehow manage to shoot everything to hell and turn the world on its ear.

And because it never happened … because Peter Pettigrew never glanced down at the corner of Main Street, Hogsmeade, because he never stopped to pick up two Sickles that dropped out of someone's pocket … because of this, everything was changed.

Or, perhaps, it was never changed at all.


End file.
